Sidney Goldblatt's Bar Mitzvah
by Glee Let Me Down
Summary: Rachel flies home from New York to experience the party that the entire Lima Jewish community has been eagerly awaiting for thirteen years. Long story short: Puck also attends. Puckleberry. Nuff said.
1. Prologue

**A/N- Sidney Goldblatt is my real-life little brother's fictional rival, created by my father. Yes. That's how weird my family is. **

**I wrote this prologue over the summer, and felt like coming back to it. Lemme know what you guys think!**

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><p>When Rachel was seven-years-old, her Dad came home one night with an eager look in his eye: one he only wore when he had news.<p>

"Did you guys hear?" Hiram asked excitedly, hanging up his coat and kissing her other dad on the cheek. "Mrs. Goldblatt had the baby! It's a little boy!"

"And let the planning begin!" Leroy said with a smirk.

Her dad's were sure of it since the day the boy was born: Sidney Goldblatt's Bar Mitzvah was going to be the party of the century.

Nobody really knew how the Goldblatt's had made their fortune. Sidney's grandfather had purchased the estate in Lima in the late 1940s and the family had been there ever since. Nobody worked with Howard Goldblatt, Sidney's father, so nobody had any idea what he did. And no one ever inquired about his occupation, because it was more fun to make up stories in their heads about how the first American Goldblatt's had patented something like the gas-powered wood-chipper or stroller breaks or the Lazy Susan and the family still got paid royalties every time a sale was made. Rachel had never believed any of those stories, though. She'd always imagined Mr. Goldblatt working at some sort of law firm: _Goldblatt and Partners_. But she knew that if that was the case there'd be an office in Lima, so the mystery remained unsolved.

Her dads got along well with Mrs. and Mr. Goldblatt. Then again, the Goldblatts were extremely friendly, and were on speaking terms with everyone at their temple. As a matter of fact, the family was actually the reason that the temple was standing, having paid to have it built in the 1950s. Mrs. Goldblatt hosted massive Seders in the Goldblatt mansion every Passover; followed parties so extravagant that they had to be sacrilegious. Rachel remembered attending as a little girl and feeling like Cinderella at the prince's ball; like she wasn't worthy of such glamour and probably didn't deserve to be invited in the first place. But the Goldblatts had invited everyone, simply because they could afford to.

The dress Rachel had bought for the Goldblatt Bar Mitzvah was a Vera Wang, and the most expensive dress she had ever owned. She'd carried it onto the plane home from New York because the idea of checking it made her nervous. Even now, with it folded in a garment back in the over-head compartment, she was worried about it. For the amount she'd paid, she wanted to look perfect.

"This whole thing is bogus," Noah had told her over the phone before she left. "The amount of money the Lima Jewish community is collectively spending on this day could feed a third-world country. If it weren't for the open bar, I'd boycott this crap."

"Quite frankly I feel that the presence of alcohol at these pre-teen-oriented events is inappropriate."

"Are you kidding? It's part of the right of passage. The first and only time I threw up from booze was the night of my Bar Mitzvah."

"But that's the thing, Puckerman," Rachel rolled her eyes. "Most of the kids at these things are responsible enough to avoid the dangerous temptations of alcohol. They end up miserably fending for themselves in a mob of drunken relatives."

"You know what the presence of drunken relatives was for me when I was thirteen? A Tuesday…"

"Oh right," Rachel sighed dryly. "Sometimes I forget how…unique your childhood was."

But there were other times when she thought about it deeply. As her plane touched down on Ohio soil, for instance, and she gripped her armrests uneasily, her mind was inadvertently dancing with thoughts of Noah Puckerman as a boy. She'd known him back then: they'd gone to Hebrew school together and occasionally shared a class, but she'd never paid much attention to him; not until the day sophomore year of high school when he showed up at her locker with a Grape slushy, beginning their short-lived relationship, and slightly unstable friendship. She wondered how things might've been different if they'd been friends; real friends; growing up. Maybe they would've talked more since high school if that had been the case. As it was, her phone call to him asking if he was attending the Goldblatt event was the first time they'd spoken in years.

When the Plane had fully landed, and the seatbelt light had flickered off, Rachel tried not to admit to herself that she was looking forward to seeing him. Even if she was, it was only because he was the only one of her old friends who was going to be at this thing. But it didn't matter. He wasn't what she'd come back for. She'd come back for the party of the century.


	2. Chapter One: The Homecoming

Rachel rested her head on the cool passenger window of her father's hybrid, watching the familiar sights of Lima, Ohio race by. Not a lot had changed since she'd been home for winter break, but what had changed was heartbreaking.

"No!" She cried out in horror, sitting up suddenly.

"Sweet Heart, are you okay?" Hiram Berry asked her.

"This can't be happening," She said, shaking her head at her lap.

"I knew she'd freak out," Leroy sighed from the back seat. He'd let her take the front because her was that thrilled that she'd come home, and wanted to pamper her.

She turned to him, wide-eyed. "You knew and you didn't tell me!"

"Honey, it wasn't important," Leroy told her. "You've moved on."

"The Lima Bean was a sacred place," She said quickly. "Kurt and Blaine owe their relationship to that coffee. What's going to happen now that it's out of business?"

"People will start going to Starbucks," Hiram mumbled.

"That's not funny!" Rachel snapped. "I was going to take my god children on pilgrimages to that coffee house, and point to the spot where I kissed their father and helped him realize he was gay, and to the spot where Blaine told Kurt that he loved him for the first time, and to the spot where the entire Glee club sat around trying to conclude whether Kurt was cheating or not."

"Wait a minute; didn't Kurt and Blaine split up, like, two years ago?" Leroy asked.

Rachel scowled. "They were the perfect couple. There's still hope,"

"No one ends up with their high school sweet heart, honey," Hiram said, reaching over to pat his daughter on the shoulder. "And the bean was an independent business. We all knew it was only a matter of time."

Rachel knew she should feel silly getting so worked up, but she stood behind her reaction. New York might have been where she always felt she belonged, but there was something comforting about returning to Lima. She had a sick feeling that the coffee house going out of business was the first in a long line of events that would little by little turn her home town into something unrecognizable. She wasn't sure if she could accept that.

Fortunately, her bedroom was exactly the way she had left it. As she dropped her bags on the foot of her bed, she took a deep breath and did a slow turn, wanting to examine it from every angle. The air was thick with memories: sleepovers with Kurt and Mercedes; hours recording song covers for MySpace; make-out sessions with a variety of boys. Okay, so maybe it wasn't exactly a variety. There were three of them: Finn, Jesse, and Noah.

She remembered her freshman year of high school, before she had ever kissed a boy, she used to lie in bed at night and wonder what it would be like to have a man in bed beside her. She remembered what it was like to pull Noah into her bed for the first time; to have his warm, muscular body resting next to hers. She felt guilty, looking back and remembering that that's all he really was at the time: a warm body. Even though she had been kissing him, she'd been thinking about Finn.

She and Finn had broken up before he deployed. She still wrote to him sometimes and often wanted to tell herself that the two of them would get back together when he came home. It would be like one of those World War Two romances, where the man's absence was merely a petty obstacle on the way to a happy ending. What pained Rachel, more than knowing it wouldn't happen, was that she didn't want it to. She would always love Finn, and she would give her life to see him come home safely. The idea of the two of them together, however, had lost its appeal. The spark was gone at the time of the break-up, and Rachel knew it would never re-ignite. It just wasn't meant to be.

She remembered cheating on him with Puck junior year of high school, and reminded herself how immature she had been. Once again, she'd treated Noah Puckerman as an object.

Rachel picked up her garment bag and unzipped it carefully. Nervous, she removed her dress and gave it an intense examination. She let out a sigh of relief. It appeared unscathed. She couldn't help but fantasize about what would happen when she walked into the temple wearing it. She secretly hoped she would turn heads. Of course, as her fantasy progressed, she began to focus on one head in particular. Noah used to compliment her physical appearance on a daily basis. Sure, Finn and Jesse claimed they loved her personality, but Puck was the only guy who ever seemed to want to ravish her, and that meant a lot. He once organized a flash mob in order to persuade her not to get plastic surgery. He'd always gone out of his way to make her feel good about herself.

Standing alone in her room, Rachel began to blush. It was the first time that she admitted to herself what she was really hoping for. She hadn't had sex in over a year, since her last boyfriend, Jacques, turned out to be one of the "conflicted" men Kurt had warned her about back in high school. Maybe she was hoping that the mutual, purely carnal, attraction she and Noah had shared in high school would re-present itself in the event of their reunion. She'd never been one to hope for a one night stand, but this weekend she was feeling adventurous. It gave her nothing but hope to know that the first time Noah Puckerman would see her again, she'd look amazing.

Suddenly, her phone started to ring. Speak of the devil.

"Well hello there," She answered quickly.

"Sup, Berry," Puck snapped. "So …you in town yet…?"

"I just started unpacking. Why…?"

"Here's the deal," He had this business-like tone to his voice that Rachel found a tad discouraging. "I was going to drive my caddie home…"

"What's that?" Rachel interrupted. "Like, a golf cart?"

"A Cadillac…I drive one now," Puck explained.

Rachel nodded to herself. "I see."

"Well, I drove one," He continued. "But, I kind of totaled it yesterday. Don't ask. Anyway, I ended up taking a bus from Cleveland. I figured my mom would pick me up from the station, but she had some sort of waxing appointment, so I'm in need of some transportation."

Rachel looked over at her full-length mirror. She had no make-up on and was wearing a sweat-shirt and yoga pants. "Now…?" She stammered.

"Yeah, you can spare a favor, can't you? Besides, who else are you going to hang out with? No one else is crazy enough to come back to this hick town."

"Well…I just started unpacking…" Rachel said unsurely, pulling her hair out of its messy bun and looking around frantically for a hair brush.

"You're home for two days, Berry," Puck laughed. "There's nothing to unpack. Come on; just pick me up. We'll go to the bean. I'll buy you one of your weird vegan lattes."

Rachel tensed up. She really didn't want to be the one to break the news to anyone. "We can't. It went out of business."

"Well, then pick me up so I can console you," He demanded unsympathetically.

Rachel looked back into the mirror, to evaluate the time it would take to look mildly presentable. "Give me twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes later, she was pulling her dad's car into the lot of the bus station, in skinny jeans and a baby-doll top, her hair combed, and her nose powdered. She didn't look as amazing as she would the next day, but at least she would still make an impression.

Noah practically chased down her car. He was pulling open the door before she had completely stopped.

"It's about time," He teased, tossing his single duffel-bag into the back seat. "What took you so long?"

"I told you twenty minutes," Rachel shrugged defensively. "It's not my fault that you have a misinformed concept of time."

"What are you even talking about?" Puck rolled his eyes. "That's the thing with you, Rachel. I never have any idea what you're talking about."

"What can I say? I like to keep people on their toes."

Noah gave her a genuine smile. In high school, it had been rare to get it out of him. It was more common for his smiles to appear simply evil; like he was plotting something. Rachel had always felt accomplished when he smiled at her for real, and there was nothing different about this time. She smiled back. For a moment, she felt the urge to jump the gun and kiss him, but she knew that immediate action would diminish the excitement of the following night's potential hook-up. For now, she had to take things slow.

"So, you said you would buy me a latte," She reminded him softly.

He shook his head dismissively. "Nah, I just wanted to relive old memories. If it's not Lima Bean, there's no point."

Rachel was glad that he felt that way. Over the phone, it had seemed like it didn't really matter to him if their high school hang-outs were still in business. "I know what you mean."

"Have you eaten yet?" He asked her. "We could do lunch at the Sticks."

Rachel grinned excitedly. "That would be perfect!"

"All right…!" He cried. "Hit the gas, Berry."

"So…how's school?" She asked him as they drove. She knew he had done a few years at the local Junior College and had since then moved on to Cleveland State.

"It's fine…" He told her boredly. "I finally declared my major: accounting. I'm friggen awesome at math so it only made sense. It's not nearly as interesting as what you're doing, though."

"Don't say that," Rachel replied awkwardly, secretly agreeing with him. "I'm just glad you found your niche."

"I read my News Feed, Rachel," He said non-acceptingly. "You were in 'Hairspray' last month, weren't you?"

"It was a college show. It barely counts." Rachel corrected him embarrassedly. "I was Penny. She's hardly even a lead. And Hairspray's barely a classic."

"Stop it," Puck ordered her. "Have a little pride."

"Not like Kurt…" Rachel said. "Did you read about him on your godly News Feed? He's selling out Romeo and Juliet off-Broadway. His Mercutio steals the show! All the reviews say so! He doesn't even have to show up to his classes anymore!"

"So, he got a break first," Puck shrugged. "You'll get yours."

"Blaine's years ahead of me too," She reasoned. "He just played Billy Crocker in Anything Goes!"

"Let me guess, Off Broadway?" Puck egged her on.

"Well, it was a summer production in Saugatuck, Michigan…" Rachel said. "But it's still a big deal. They take the arts very seriously up there. It's, like, the gay coast of Lake Michigan."

"Once again: no idea what you're talking about,"

"I'm just saying, don't be too impressed with me," Rachel warned him.

"Do you know what I do when I think about all the people from high school who are more successful than me?"

Rachel began to pull into the parking lot of Breadsticks. "No, what…?"

"Well, first, I remind myself that we haven't even graduated college yet, and that there's time to watch them fall on their asses as we pass them. And secondly, I look at people like Rick the Stick, who didn't even go to college, who we were better than from the very beginning. But finally, what I really have to do; I have to remind myself that life is a hell of a lot more fun when you stop comparing yourself to other people."

Rachel put her car in park and nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm in a very competitive industry. I sort of have to compare myself to other people."

Puck gave up. "Why are we even talking about this? I thought the point of this little rendezvous was to dwell on the past, not the present."

Rachel went to unbuckle her seat belt, suddenly self-conscious that she was just depressing him. "You're right. I promise for the rest of the day, I will talk about nothing but high school."

Puck undid his own seat belt and looked over at the restaurant. "Perfect." He said.

"Perfect," Rachel repeated.

They climbed out of the car and started toward the restaurant, both of them preparing themselves for a whole lot of nostalgia.


	3. Chapter Two: Dessert

"Jesse St. James…" Noah said confidently, taking a lick of his vanilla ice cream cone.

"What about him?" Rachel asked boredly, spinning her spoon around her cup of blackberry sorbet. They were sitting on the hood of her dad's car, eating frozen treats even though it was only fifty-five degrees out. There was something different about the fresh air in Lima than the air in the cities they had been living in, and they wanted to get as much of it as possible.

"Do you remember him?" Noah grinned evilly.

"Of course I remember him. I almost had sex with him." Rachel professed embarrassingly.

"What do you know about him now? Is he out yet?"

"Out of what…"

"You know…"

"No, I don't. I haven't mastered the art of mind reading yet," She teased.

"Then what is all that tuition money going toward?" Noah cried. Rachel simply giggled, shaking her head. "You know, has he pledged his fidelity to the Logo network? Has he downloaded YMCA on iTunes? Has he…you know…" Puck was growing impatient. "Is he gay, Rachel? Is he gay?"

"Why, do _you_ want to date him?" Rachel asked loudly.

"Hey, I'm just curious!" Puck shrugged. "I want to measure the accuracy of my high school gaydar. I mean, that kid did wear a lot of scarves."

"Right…"

"Kurt Hummel was the only other guy I knew who liked scarves that much."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I just said I almost had sex with him. He's not gay."

"…Blaine Anderson," Puck replied.

"What, are you asking if I remember Blaine too?"

"…That party you and I threw Junior Year…god… that was a great night. I was there with what's her face…Lauren Zizes. Wow, I miss her. She was a bad ass."

"What's your point?" Rachel said, taking a bite of her sorbet.

"Well, from that night, I have a…um… vivid image in my head of you and Bow-ties McGee rolling around behind the bar. He and Kurt got together, what, two weeks later?"

"He was experimenting…" Rachel asserted. "I was just being helpful."

"You know, they say girls go for guys that remind them of their fathers."

Rachel sighed, remembering her last boyfriend. How had she not realized he was gay? He had insisted on being called Jacques. His real name was Jacob. If that wasn't a red flag, what was?

"Hey, I'm just messing with you." Puck continued gently, watching her face fall. "You made some great decisions in high school too. I would know. I was one of them, and I promise you that I am not gay."

Rachel sighed again. "Thanks for that."

"For what…being straight?"

Rachel looked at him thoughtfully. She wasn't exactly sure what she had meant. "For being Noah Puckerman," She tried to sound insincere.

"You're very welcome…" He said. The conversation came to a brief pause as they continued to eat their desserts.

"That was a great weekend, though," Rachel smiled nostalgically. "The weekend of that party…even if its events did ultimately lead to Brittany throwing up on me in front of the entire school."

"I almost forgot about that." Puck grinned. "That was priceless."

"Shut up," Rachel laughed. "That was quite possibly the most disgusting thing that has ever happened to me."

"Do you remember the day after the party itself? I came back to replace your parents' stash and you were still a little drunk."

The memory was foggy, but Rachel was surprised that she'd managed to hold onto it at all. "Didn't you make me waffles?" She asked. "You used milk and eggs, and I ate them anyway because I was too hungry to consider the inhumane treatment of the animals that had produced them."

"They were delicious waffles, though, weren't they?" Noah wiggled his eyebrows.

Rachel couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I guess they were kind of delicious. I think they were a little bit magical too. They made my nausea go away."

"I think I bought you a present too, didn't I?"

"What are you talking about?" Rachel had to think about it. "Are you talking about that disgusting pink wine?"

"Hey! I picked that out special for you! I knew how much you liked pink…it matched your rhinestone microphone."

Rachel chuckled. "I went through that bottle in two days."

"And what about the other one…?" Puck asked.

"What?"

"I bought you two bottles! One wasn't enough to thank you for the awesomeness your empty house allowed."

"I don't remember," Rachel rolled her eyes. "It was five years ago."

"You don't even remember…" Puck shook his head in playful resentment. "Damn, Berry…"

Rachel watched him lick at his ice cream cone some more. Even though it was chilly out, they'd been sitting around long enough that the ice cream was starting to drip down the cone and onto his hand. Compulsively, she pulled a napkin from the stack she'd been holding between her palm and her cup and dabbed some of the mess away.

"It's a good thing we're out here," She told him. "If we were in the car, you'd be getting this all over my dad's seats."

Noah was un-fazed. He kept eating his ice cream, ignoring her hand. Rachel suddenly realized what she was doing, and started to laugh.

"Sorry, that was rude, wasn't it?" She blushed. "I'm not your mother, and you're not five years old."

Puck shrugged. "Hey, the maternal instinct is kind of hot."

"Oh, right…" Rachel said simply. "I forgot you were into that."

Puck's face fell. Simultaneously, the two of them thought of Shelby Corcoran. "Right…" was all Puck could say.

They then came across another silence, but this one lasted longer than their previous ones. By the time either of them was ready to talk again, they had finished their treats completely.

Rachel realized that her tone could possibly be coming across as bitter or resentful.

"You know, I never held it against you," Rachel quickly tried to redeem herself. "The thing with Shelby, I mean. It was gross, and inappropriate, but it was her responsibility to acknowledge that, not yours."

"Right…" Puck slid off the hood of the car. When his feet were on the ground, he held out a hand to help Rachel down. It was beginning to become clear to her that he really didn't want to talk about the time he'd nailed her birth-mother. She wasn't sure how to fix it.

"You hooked up with a lot of girls in high school, but aside from a few mistakes, it wasn't entirely a bad thing," Rachel continued. "You were honest about what you wanted. I personally always felt respected…"

"You and I never hooked up, Rachel," Puck reminded her crossly, leaving her stunned as he turned away and started toward the garbage can that stood across the Dairy Queen parking lot. "We made out a few times. We never even went to second base."

"Noah, hold on!" She rushed after him. "I'm sorry I brought any of this up. I just want you to know that even though you did some stupid things in high school, I always saw what a great guy you were! I mean, you made me waffles! You organized a flash mob for me!"

Puck suddenly stopped himself. "I guess it's my fault," He said, clenching his fists and trying to relax. "I'm the one who wanted to talk about high school."

Rachel nodded. "And it's been great. We had some really great times…"

"I spent two weeks in Juvenile hall…" He reminded her. "I threw Kurt into a dumpster and locked Artie in a port-o-potty. I got my best friend's girlfriend pregnant."

"And by graduation, we all loved you anyway," Rachel smiled. "Look, Noah…you redeemed yourself years ago. Let's talk about the party again. Let's talk about Blaine and…and Jesse! Those are the good memories! They're the ones that are important."

Puck shook his head. He didn't want to talk at all. Rachel felt completely defeated.

"My mom's probably done with work by now," Puck told Rachel. "I should go home and see her. It's been a few months since she's seen me. She's probably waiting by the door."

Rachel nodded, still feeling like she had done something wrong. "I guess you and I have to whole weekend to talk, don't we."

Puck nodded sadly, starting back toward the car. "Yeah. Sure we do."


	4. Chapter Three: The Mall

**A/N- Hey guys. I finally found the time to update. Sorry about the delay. My next hiatus will probably be shorter. I'm planning on updating my Faberry fic sometime in the next couple days too, so keep an eye out. Enjoy! **

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><p>"It's about time!" Shauna Puckerman shouted, flying at him the minute he was through the front door.<p>

"What's up, ma?" He wrapped his arms around her, convinced that she had shrunk since the last time he'd been home.

"What's up to you? How's school? Are you getting As?"

Puck shrugged, dropping his bag on the floor and kicking off his shoes. "I'm trying."

"You always were the smart one, Noah," She sighed, linking her arm in his and leading him down the narrow hallway toward the kitchen. "Out of all your siblings, you were the one with the brains. That was always clear to me."

Noah rolled his eyes. He knew she'd never believed that. She only claimed to now that he was inches away from a college degree. She didn't want to look like the bitch who'd never believed in him. For him, it was too late. However, she was still his mother, and out of love, he could humor her.

"Speaking of siblings: any of them here?"

His mother shook her head simply, going over to the coffee maker and starting a pot.

Puck blinked expectantly. "Are any of them coming home?"

"Why would they come home?" She snapped smartly. "It's not like its Passover."

"It's the Goldblatt Bar Mitzvah," Puck replied significantly.

"We barely know the Goldblatts." Shauna insisted. "I'm only going because you're going and it would be weirder if you went without me."

"What about Hannah," Puck asked, glancing around, wondering why his little sister hadn't popped out of some dark corner to scare him yet. "She probably wants to go."

"Hannah's weekending in Aspen with her boyfriend and his super-rich boyfriend," Shauna swatted the air dismissively.

Puck's brow furrowed, suddenly concerned. "…boyfriend…?"

"Yep; a dreamy little thing…They're getting kind of serious."

"Serious…? And you're letting them?" Puck was getting into protective older brother mode. He hadn't felt like this since the time he'd nearly murdered Jesse St. James for smashing an egg on Rachel's head. Because that's exactly what he'd been like to her in high school…an older brother…that made out with her in bed several times…

"I'm not concerned. She's seventeen." Shauna sighed. "And she's on the pill…"

"Gross!"

"I already housed one pregnant teenager in my lifetime…"

"Damn it, mom,"

"…I'm not going to do it again…" She ignored her son's glares. "I learned the hard way that you can't cage you kids in."

"You can at least make an effort," Puck shrugged, beginning to back out of the kitchen.

"I can make you lunch or something," His mother told him on his way out.

Puck shook his head. "I already took care of that."

And he was out the door.

His mother hadn't put clean sheets on his bed. It's not like he'd expected her too. The fact that he wasn't getting the guest treatment made him feel more at home, but at the same time, he almost wished she made more of an event of his return. He wished she would've picked him up from the bus station, or prepared a list of things she wanted to tell him upon their reunion.

He also wished his siblings were around. The house was too quiet without them. His oldest brother, Gabe, lived in Chicago. Noah didn't expect him to come home, but Eli and his family were less than two hours away. It wouldn't be hard for them to spend the weekend in Lima. He'd never been close with his brothers growing up, but they were still his family. The thing he liked about coming home for the holidays was seeing their faces; playing euchre around the dining room table and arguing about who'd brought the best brew of beer home. Now, it was like all the color had drained from his home in the time he'd been away. Suddenly, he felt no desire to be there.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and dialed the first number on his "recent calls" list.

"I changed my mind," He said surely.

"About what…?" Rachel asked boredly.

"I don't know…about seeing my mom. Come pick me up again."

"You can't just change your mind, Noah," Rachel snapped. He grinned, because the tone she was speaking in was one he hadn't heard since high school.

"Look, I'm sorry if I was hostile earlier," He pleaded. "But it's really boring here, and I want to leave."

"Then leave."

"I don't have a car, remember,"

Rachel hesitated, exhaling heavily into the phone. "Fine…" She said. "Never mind the fact that I just took off my shoes. I'll come back. What kind of brilliant idea do you have in the realm of something to do?"

Puck grinned victoriously. "I don't know, babe. I'm sure we'll think of something."

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><p>"So…what now…?" Rachel asked slowly, as they walked through the main entrance of the mall.<p>

"I don't know. We should go into a store or something."

Rachel shook her head, a smile of disbelief creeping over her face. "You dragged me out of my house, Noah. The least you could do is to keep me entertained."

"Have a little patience, Berry. Did I not say I would figure something out?"

"I could be on my couch watching Funny Girl and eating the snap peas and hummus that my fathers so graciously bought in preparation for my homecoming. Kurt's and my apartment in New York is fabulous, but it's not home. There's something therapeutic about relaxing on the sofa of my childhood."

"You haven't changed a bit," Noah chuckled. Rachel looked at him curiously, so he clarified. "…Funny Girl…? You're still obsessed with her."

"She's Barbara…" Rachel stated unapologetically. "You can't just _get over_ Barbara."

Puck suddenly stopped, as they came to the foot of a set of escalators. He smirked. "Speaking of Barbara…do you remember what happened here?"

Rachel looked around, inhaling sharply, and trying not to get too nostalgic. She kept her forming grin under control. "I thought we weren't going to talk about high school anymore."

"What else are we supposed to talk about?"

Rachel paused, stepping onto the up escalator. Noah followed her lead. "We were kind of friends in high school, weren't we? I mean, I never thought of us as being close at the time, but would we really be here right now if we weren't?"

"Hey, I thought you were a bad ass," Puck told her. "You were the one that would never let me worship you."

"Worship…" Rachel shifted uncomfortably, leaning against the moving railing. "That's an interesting choice of words…"

Puck suddenly realized that he was coming across kind of weird, he couldn't falter, though. That would only make him look worse. "That's the only accurate word choice."

Rachel blushed slightly as they stepped off the escalator.

"So how are the men treating you in New York?" He asked her. "Men besides Kurt, I mean. I know he's your number one..."

Rachel shrugged, trying to maintain her confidence. "I'm getting the attention I need."

"Good. So, I don't have to come there and kick any ungrateful asses."

"Thankfully, no. It's kind of a long drive to New York, especially when your sole agenda is a weakly inspired ass-kicking."

Puck nodded, pursing his lips in a tough smile.

"What about you?" Rachel walked a little closer to him and nudged his arm with her elbow. "How are the ladies treating you in Cleveland?"

"Ladies don't treat _me_, Berry," Puck corrected her quickly. "I'm always the one in control."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I forgot what a piece of work you are."

Puck sighed, taking his eyes away from Rachel to examine a cell-phone accessory kiosk as they walked past. "The truth is…" He admitted. "I haven't actually dated since high school...like…at all…"

"You never actually _dated_ in high school," Rachel was quick to remind him. "You just…you know…hadgirls you went out with." She made finger-quotes around "went out" to show that she was using a euphemism for something a bit more intimate. She had this teasing smile on her face, though, like his man-whore tendencies were actually one of her fondest memories of him.

Puck sighed heavily, not caring to admit that he'd barely "gone out" with anyone either. It was getting harder and harder to find girls who were willing to hook up for fun. Now that they were in their twenties, women were only interested in long term relationships. He was sure he could track down a free-spirit or two at any bar or frat party on a Saturday night, but lately he didn't feel like being that guy anymore. It was a side of him that started fading after his affair with Shelby; after Beth became a part of his life. Since high school, he wanted what the women wanted: a serious commitment. The problem was that he didn't want any of the women. He knew, though, that his borderline celibacy was something he could never admit to any of his friends from high school. It would completely destroy the way they saw him.

"Are you hungry again yet?" He asked, quickly changing the subject as he spotted a intriguing cart several feet ahead of them. "I know we already had pasta and ice cream, but you're thin. You can afford to have some pop corn, can't you?"

Rachel knew what he was doing, but she humored him. "We can split a bag, but you better eat most of it," She said, pointing a cute finger in his face. "I have a dress to fit into tomorrow."

"Duly noted," He nodded, he held out his arm and she took it gently as they walked toward the cart. It took him back to the old days; when they were dating. She'd once told him how proud she was to have him on his arm in front of the whole high school.

For some reason, he had trouble forgetting that.


End file.
